| May 20, 2003 - Getting ready for the procto |
| Dear Friends, today is the day of the dreaded proctoscopy. You'll recall that I was supposed to have one during my unfantabulous physical, but I hadn't prepared for it so it had to be postponed. Well the hateful day has finally arrived. In preparation for a proctoscopy you're not supposed to have any salad at dinner the night before. That was OK; that part wasn't difficult. Then you're supposed to take two tablespoons of Milk of Magnesia at bedtime. Well, I prefer to call it Milk of Amnesia, because after tasting it you wish you could develop amnesia. All well and good. I went to bed and slept very well, thank you. OK. This morning I had to give myself an enema as part of the prep. How undignified! I read the directions over and over again and kept stalling as long as I could, but finally I said, "JOHNNYLEEN, you're just going to have to get over yourself!" So there I am on all fours on a towel with an enema tube in my rear, when Gunhilda decides to investigate. She jumps up on the bed and walks around under my stomach looking at various things. All the while I'm saying, "Good kitty. You're my sweet baby, aren't you? Did you come to see JOHNNYLEEN?" How utterly embarassing! I finally said to myself, "Stop talking! What person in his right mind chats to a cat while giving himself an enema?" So I finished up that little unpleasant task, but it wasn't all over yet. The instructions on the bottle said, "Hold in until you feel a strong urge to evacuate." Well, I took it to mean "Hold in until you feel a strong urge to evacuate your bowels", but when my stomach started rumbling like Vesuvius, I realized it actually meant "Hold in until you feel a strong urge to evacuate Pompeii"! Dear Friends, if you've ever wondered what happens to missing socks, well I can tell you now. So the next time you find one missing from your dryer, just send me an email; I probably have it. Now you'll remember from one of my earlier entries that I had once met a woman from California who said that friends of hers are really into enemas. They apparently feel that it cleanses and enlightens them. Well, Dear Readers, I neither felt cleansed nor enlightened. In fact, I got immediately in the shower and scrubbed away like I was Joan Crawford. And as I stood there I tried contemplating the mysteries of the universe to see if maybe I really had become enlightened, but all I really felt was a sense of relief that the whole unfantabulous experience was over. Now if I can only make it through the proctoscopy! Next entry Previous entry Go to diary entries Go back home |